by Sarah Hegger
He clapped Roger on the arm, and winked. “You are up early, lad. And the stable is not where I would expect a newly married man to be.”
“Nay,” Roger said. “You can be about your work, Peter. I will sort this out.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Peter gave Sir Royce a respectful nod in passing. He grabbed his bucket from where it lay outside the stall and strolled into the main part of the stable.
Roger waited until Peter’s footsteps blended with the gentle sounds of the stables. He motioned Sir Royce into an empty stall. “I would have a word with you.”
Sir Royce thrust his shoulders back. “If Kathryn has displeased you in some manner, I will deal with her. But you should know, lad, I will not take her back.”
“Nay, you will not.” Roger stepped closer, crowding the man back into the stall. “You will not go near her again.”
“Wha—” Sir Royce’s words died in his throat, courtesy of Roger’s hand about it.
The older man was shorter than him, but thick through the waist. Roger tightened his grip and slammed him into the back wall. Only his age protected him from Roger’s fist.
Turning purple, Sir Royce stared.
Roger lifted him until his toes brushed the floor. “I saw what you did to my wife.” He leaned close to Sir Royce’s ear. “I counted each mark on her.”
Sir Royce choked, his mouth working soundlessly.
“You miserable, cowardly piece of horse dung. Does it make you feel like a man to hurt women and children?” He slammed Sir Royce’s head into the wall. “Do you think it makes you strong to raise your hand to those who cannot fight back.” Slam. “I fight back, Sir Royce, and if you ever come near Kathryn again, I will rip your sodding head off and piss down your neck. Your welcome at Anglesea is over.”
He opened his hand and stepped back.
Sir Royce dropped to the floor like a stone. He clasped his throat gagging and sucking in air.
“Lady Rose stays here.”
* * * *
Light prickling behind her eyelids woke Kathryn. She burrowed deeper into the pillow.
“Will you sleep the day away?” Roger’s voice penetrated her sleepy fog and she opened her eyes.
He sprawled beside her on the bed, already clothed, his head propped on his hand. He smelled of crisp morning air and…the stables? Had he been riding?
Kathryn pulled the covers over her head to hide her blush. The things they had done last night fanned her flaming cheeks hotter.
“Nay, my lady.” The bedclothes muffled Roger’s voice. Then they were ripped out of her hands.
Kathryn shrieked and made a grab for them. The cold of the room stung her warm, naked flesh.
Roger, the tormenting cur, laughed and tossed the covers to the floor. He paused, and surveyed her with a wicked glint.
She knew what that look meant, and her blood stirred.
“I am rethinking my plan for our day.” Roger spread his hand over her belly. “I had planned a day out of doors.”
If it meant more time beneath the covers, Kathryn fully supported the notion. Making sure to put an extra arch in her back, she stretched her arms above her.
His gaze went straight to her upthrust breasts. “Woman.” Roger slid his hand up to cup her breast and stopped. “I see your evil plan to lure me back to bed.”
“Is it working?” Kathryn blew a strand of hair out of her face.
Roger’s jaw clenched, his gaze hot on her nakedness. “Nay.” He shoved his hands into his belt. “I will not be turned from my course.”
“Are you sure?” Kathryn rose to her knees and moved toward him.
“Nay.” Roger hauled his chemise off and tossed it aside. “I am not at all sure.” Grabbing her by the hips, he pressed her back onto the bed. “You asked for this, wench.”
“Indeed, I did.” Kathryn wrapped her arms about his neck. “Now what are you going to do about it?”
“Why, my lady.” Roger leered at her. “I am going to honor my lady’s wishes.”
“Get on with it then.”
“Brazen.” Roger bit her shoulder, and settled his hips between her thighs.
His hard rod pressed against her woman’s place, and Kathryn writhed beneath him. “I am now.”
“Now.” His hot gaze caressed her breasts, her belly and the place between her thighs that already responded to him. “Where to begin?”
Roger’s plan for their day seemed abandoned, as he made love to her with slow, sure languor. Wringing pleasure from her until he reduced her to a sobbing, begging mound of need in his arms.
After, he flung himself onto his back beside her, his breath coming hard.
Kathryn lay her head on his chest, and his arm came about her to keep her close. His palm drifted lower, caressed her bottom.
It appeared Kathryn enjoyed the kissing as much as ever, but she craved what it led to.
Roger stirred and patted her ass. “Come, your plan has failed. I am resolved.”
“All right, then.” Kathryn rolled to her feet beside the bed. She did not mind so much, now.
They helped each other dress, and Roger led her out of the keep.
In the bailey his destrier and Striker stood ready.
Dagger leapt up and charged over to her, tail whipping his body from side to side.
Kathryn crouched and ruffled his fur, letting him know she was as pleased to see him.
“He has been causing havoc with the hunting hounds,” Roger said. “I thought they could do with a break from him for the day.”
“And this is your consuming quest?” Kathryn couldn’t resist returning his smile. Wind ruffling his hair, wearing a broad smile, Roger looked younger and more carefree than she had ever seen him.
“I thought you might need a break for the day, as well.” He cupped his hand for her to mount. “Before you know it my mother and sisters will be awake and then you will be fair game.”
Striker stamped as she mounted. He fought the rein to be going.
Roger led them through the outer bailey and into the meadow beyond. Through a beech thicket, the branches already bustling and thick with life, they meandered and emerged on the outskirts of the village of Anglesea. Unlike Mandeville, Anglesea teemed with life. Villagers called out a greeting to Roger. A group of children stopped playing and openly stared at her. Kathryn waved, and was paid back in smiles and nods. A couple calls of “welcome, my lady” dispelled her lingering shyness. Neat, thatched cottages lined a central road that led past the church green and through huge sand dunes covered in wispy fronds of grass.
Dunes gave way to rough, pebbled beach. Here, the sea breeze pulled at her hair and flapped her skirts about her ankles. Pipers strutted up and down amongst the pebbles, dipping their beaks for food.
“Where are we going?” She had to shout against the wind carrying her words away.
Roger turned and grinned. “To a secret place.”
Closer to the water’s edge, the pebbles gave way to firm sand, and Roger dugs his heels into his horse’s flanks.
This was more like it. With a whoop that would have made her mother stare, Kathryn took off after him.
Striker stretched his long legs into a gallop. Beside her Dagger barked and ran, ears back, tongue lolling. Kathryn knew how he felt. She dropped her head close to Striker’s neck. His mane tickled her face. Freedom. It drummed through her body with every beat of her heart, it rushed beneath her skin. Her laughter tore free and was snatched away by the wind and borne out over sea.
Inside, the tight knot of her emotions unfurled and was whipped away and pounded into the ground beneath Striker’s hooves. Until the weight lifted, she had no idea she was wound so tight. Matty, marriage, being a baroness all got left far behind the galloping horses. Like this, she was just Kathryn, with a handsome, wild man who made her heart beat faster.
Roger slowed his horse to a canter, and then into a walk. Both horses blew hard, and Dagger dro
pped into the wet sand, panting.
Roger turned to her with a boyish grin.
Their gazes met in a silent communion. They had both needed the release.
From the beach, Roger followed a small footpath over the dunes, and through a thicket that opened onto a large, wild meadow. Spring flowers lifted their colorful heads between the dancing blades of fresh, new grass. Above her stretched a clear sky, which housed the gentle morning sun.
Meadowlarks sang out from trees dotted about the meadow edges. A flock of robins darted past, busily chattering and paying them no heed as the horses brushed through the high grass. At the far end of the meadow, they entered a wood. Giant birches rose to shade them, new leaves quivering in the breeze.
The woods lay quiet after the meadow, hooves muffled by the leaf strewn damp ground. “What is this place?” Kathryn whispered. It seemed wrong to break the serene still with loud noise.
“These woods are believed to be ancient,” Roger said. Rising up between the birches, aged oak trees spread their gnarled and twisted branches. “Anglesea folk say they are haunted by the spirits of the old ones.”
“The old ones?” Kathryn glanced about her. She did not believe in ghosts, but if she did, this would be the sort of place they would dwell.
“People from long ago.” Roger stared at the thick tree canopy. “Folk who practiced all sorts of strange and lost magic. They believed the oak sacred, the king of trees.”
“They certainly are big.” Kathryn twisted in her saddle as they passed an oak whose trunk was thicker than three, nay, four of her. “Do you believe these woods are haunted?”
“Nay.” Roger tossed her a grin. “And William, Henry and I certainly spent enough time here as lads trying to see a ghost.”
“Henry is your younger brother?”
“Aye.” Roger’s expression grew serious. “He has gone on holy pilgrimage. We can only pray the sodding fool comes back in one piece.”
Not knowing what to say to that, Kathryn kept her peace.
“See that tree?” Roger pointed to a large birch, the trunk nearly smooth. “We tied Bea to that one day because she followed us into our woods.”
“What did she do?” The Lady Beatrice Kathryn had met would never have taken kindly to that.
“She told my father, and we were clearing the midden for weeks after that.” Roger threw back his head and laughed. “And she hid all our boots, so we had to do it barefoot. Father said it served us right.”
His clear love for his family made her heart ache a little for Matty. Not that they were ever permitted to play wild or unruly games, but since they could walk, it had been her and Matty. A brother might have been nice.
“Not much longer now.” Roger dismounted and led his horse.
Dagger burst out of a patch of undergrowth he had been carefully examining, and wagged his tail.
Roger held his arms out and Kathryn dropped into them.
Warm and hard, his chest pressed against her as she slid to the ground. A few short weeks ago, she would have scoffed at the notion of accepting help to dismount. Now she could see the clear advantages. “Will I like this place?”
“I do.” Roger held her to him, his hands on her hips. “I regard it as my secret place. Of course, so do my brothers, but they’re not here now.”
Hands clasped, leading their horses they wound through the trees until they came upon a stream. Roger tied his horse to a fallen log, leaving enough rein for the animal to drink. Kathryn did the same.
Grabbing her hand again, he ducked beneath the heavy branches that obscured their way. Bent nearly double, twigs snagging her hair and dress, Kathryn tried to peer ahead of them.
The thicket opened suddenly and she stood entranced.
“See.” Roger held his arms out.
“Oh.” Kathryn had no words.
Roger’s secret place seemed apart from the world about it. Sheltered by the heavy trees and undergrowth, they were trapped in their own green cave. Water cascaded down a small fall that twisted to make its way between two tree trunks, and tumbled over the rocks into a deep, still pool.
Kathryn turned in a circle. “It is beautiful,” she said. “No wonder you keep it as your secret place.”
Roger tugged her into his arms. “Here I am not Sir Roger of Anglesea, son to the great Sir Arthur. I thought you might need a break from all the newness that besets you.”
He understood and it made her want to bawl like a babe. Aye, they both had responsibilities and duties. In the world outside they were still Sir Roger and his Lady Kathryn. But here, they could just be themselves.
Kathryn pressed her face into his throat. “Now it will be our secret place.”
Chapter 23
The gloaming lay over Anglesea as they made their way back to the castle. Wind chilled the damp hair at her nape, but a rare feeling of happiness filled Kathryn. They spent the day swimming, and making love in their private bower.
Roger had been all that was attentive and loving throughout their day. If this continued, marriage might not be such a bad business.
Dagger trotted along beside them, as happy with his outing as the rest of them.
Braziers flickered along the ramparts as the watch moved about their duties. Anglesea rose against the changing sky and declared to all who saw her that she watched over these lands spread at her feet.
They spoke little as they rode, wrapped in a golden day and each other.
The stream of folk entering the outer bailey slowed to a trickle this late in the evening. Most occupied their own hearths or already sat within the castle getting ready for the evening meal.
Kathryn’s stomach grumbled. She had certainly eaten well at Anglesea. Lady Mary kept a generous table.
Roger helped her from Striker. Holding onto her a moment, he placed a sweet kiss on her lips. “It was a perfect day.”
“Aye.” Kathryn stayed a moment, content to be in his arms.
Hand in hand, Dagger at their heels, they entered the keep and took the stairs to the hall.
The hall lay quiet. Trestles half-set for the evening meal.
Sir Arthur paced before the nearest hearth. As they entered, he looked up, wearing a fierce frown. “Where have you been?”
Roger slid his arm about her waist and tugged her against him. “I took my new bride on an outing.”
“We have bad news.” Sir Arthur straightened his shoulders, bracing his legs like a man expected a bad storm.
Had they found her sister? “Matty?”
“Your sister?” Sir Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “Nay, the news is not of your sister.”
Roger’s hand tightened about her waist. “What is it?”
Sir Arthur took a deep breath. “Sir Royce left, shortly after breaking his fast. He took Lady Rose with him.”
Kathryn froze, her stare locked on Sir Arthur. Her mother would stay here at Anglesea. Roger had promised her. “Nay,” she said.
“And you let him go?” Roger’s voice cracked across the hall.
“I had no choice.” Sir Arthur thrust his shoulders back. “She is his wife. I have no right to demand he not take his wife home.”
“Nay.” Her voice whispered from her tight throat. Roger and Sir Arthur glared at each other, while she stood there, her world shifting in a sickening swirl of sound and sight.
“We had an agreement,” Roger yelled.
“Well, he broke it.” Sir Arthur bellowed back. “He had his party out the gates before we knew what he was about.”
“Did you go after him?” Roger stood toe-to-toe with his father.
“Of course I sodding went after him.” Sir Arthur went ruddy. “He pointed out that the girl is wedded and bedded, and how she went off quite happily with you for the day. He saw no reason for her mother to remain here.”
Without her at Mandeville, who would step in when her father’s rages grew too hot?
“I vowed to my wife that her
mother would be safe.”
“It was a stupid vow, son.” Sir Arthur dropped his gaze. “How could you hope to keep it? We have no rights here. None. Kathryn is yours now, yours to protect, but Lady Rose belongs to her husband.”
Aye, mother belonged to her husband. Like a work beast. Fit to bear his children, bear his needs and his anger. Oh, God. She might be sick. Kathryn covered her mouth and ran from the hall.
Someone called after her. On the top floor she went first to the guest chamber. Surely Sir Arthur had not let her father take mother.
The bare chamber mocked her. Already put to rights, it looked as if nobody had been there at all.
Kathryn clung to the doorjamb. All her life, she had lived for the moment when she could know they were safe. Every action she had taken since she grew old enough to understand what went on in her home had been fixed on the day when Matty and Mother would no longer need her.
“Kathryn.” Roger’s voice came from right behind her. “Do not despair. We can make this right.”
“How?” Kathryn whirled to face him. She wanted to lash out and make him hurt the way she did. “You promised me she would be safe. You vowed if I married you, you would make it so.”
“And I will.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “Your father has her for now, but give me time and I will fix this.”
“More promises?” A distant voice whispered she was not being fair, but she refused to heed it. She had married to protect her mother, and now mother stood in even more danger than ever. “Will you break those to me, too?”
“Kathryn.” He reared back. “I believed I had secured Lady Rose’s future. I could not know your father would do this. You go too far.”
“Really.” How dare he get angry with her. “You saw the marks on me, you know how he is. How could you let this happen?”
“Kath—”
“No more of your empty words.” The monster had her mother. She needed action not words. “I believe I do not go far enough. I kept my side of the bargain. I married you.”
He flinched. A tiny movement but there nonetheless. “Indeed, my lady.” His formal bow was as a slap in the face. “I see I have overstepped to believe more tender motives could have contributed to your decision.” Beautiful blue eyes that had stared at her with open affection all day, now grew cold and distant. “Allow me to withdraw.”
